Healing Hope (Helping Hands, Healing Hearts Book 3) Page 8

  Paul looked at her, his tired blue eyes direct. “Thank you for saving my daughter.”

  Jess shook her head. “I didn’t. You stopped the guy. I just heard him. He made some kind of noise outside, and I went back through the hallway to figure out what it was. That was when I heard Sophie bark. If anyone was a hero tonight, it was that little dog.”

  Paul shook his head wryly. “You know, I didn’t even want the damn dog, but when I saw how happy it made her,” he nodded at Hope, “I couldn’t tell her no. I’m very glad I didn’t, now.”

  “Sophie did good, Daddy,” Hope whispered, lifting her head.

  Paul’s throat worked and Jess could see he was fighting emotion. “Yes, she did, baby girl. She earned her keep tonight.”

  Hope maneuvered around until she was laying correctly on the bed. “Maybe you can lay beside me, Daddy. Then I know Viktor won’t get me.”

  Paul’s eyes jerked to Jess, and she realized she needed to tell him about Hope’s suspicion. “She thinks it was one of Tara’s old boyfriends, Viktor.”

  Paul scowled, looking down at the girl. “It doesn’t matter who it was, baby girl. I’ll protect you with everything in me. You hear me?”

  Hope nodded, then seemed to sink into the mattress. Jess knew she was asleep. Her own eyes were heavy. It had been an incredibly long day. And the hospital was probably one of the safest places they could be.

  Paul was reclining on the bed next to his daughter. He shifted down and draped his arm over her little body. “They want to keep me for observation because of the knock on my head, so go ahead and close your eyes, if you’d like,” Paul murmured, voice soft.

  Jess didn’t need any further encouragement. Drawing her knees up, she let her eyes drift closed.

  Paul didn’t like being on this side of the curtain, so to speak. He’d talked the ambulance drivers into delivering him to his hospital, La Jolla, but almost immediately he regretted the decision. Maybe it would have been better to be an anonymous amputee that had been in a fight at another hospital.

  Because now he had to deal with his own personnel. He looked around the circle of faces, all people he knew and respected, and just wanted to scream at them to get out of his room. They were arguing about whether or not he needed an MRI. Paul knew he didn’t need one, but at least part of the medical staff argued otherwise.

  “Hey, guys…” he held up his prosthetic to get their attention.

  But they continued to debate.

  A piercing whistle shattered the conversation. Everyone arguing stopped and stared at the woman in the gauzy dress in the corner of the room. Paul grinned when Hope’s mouth fell open in surprise.

  Jess looked angrily at every person in the group. “You’re arguing about the man like he doesn’t have a choice on the matter, and we all know he does. Right?” She nodded theatrically, and most of the group copied her action. “Why don’t you ask him?”

  All eyes turned to Paul. He looked at Max, one of the best doctors he’d ever met, and a fantastic personal friend. “No MRI. I appreciate the concern, guys, but I’m good. I’m getting out of here in about 2 minutes, and nothing you guys say is going to stop me.”

  They’d heard that tone in his voice before, because they all backed off.

  “I am going to take a few days off, though. Pitrelli, you’ll be in charge until I get back early next week.”

  The gray-haired man gave him a salute, though he’d been out of the military more than thirty years. Petrilli was a good man and he knew how to run a hospital. Paul had taken over as his successor when Petrilli wanted to return to patient care.

  His staff filed out of the room. All but Jane. His no-nonsense assistant held a tablet against her chest, and Paul knew it contained his schedule as well as a dozen other pertinent items he probably had to deal with before she could be at ease. Tipping his chin at her, he motioned her forward.

  As she read off a list of items, he tried to answer her as succinctly as possible. If he was going to be gone for a few days, he didn’t want to leave anything extra for Petrilli. Some items seemed frivolous, though, and he scowled at Jane. “I think you can weed out some of those for him, Jane.”

  The older woman gave a tight nod. “I can. I’ll have the board reschedule their meeting to late next week. They’ll understand.”

  Stepping forward, she folded the tablet in her arms and gave him a small smile. “I’m very glad you’re okay, sir.”

  “Thank you, Jane. Try not to let Petrilli ruin anything in my absence, okay?”

  The older woman gave him a wink. “You just take time for your family and I’ll keep him in line. Maybe if you get a spare minute you can look at that list of potential nannies I sent you.”

  Turning, she strode through the door, leaving the three of them alone in the room.

  Jess was the first to move, pushing to her feet. She still wore the same gauzy dress and tank. They were just a little bedraggled now from sleeping in a chair. “You get your paperwork signed and I’ll pull the Jeep around. I checked on Sophie about an hour ago and she says she’s ready to go home and get in Hope’s bed.”

  Hope giggled, making them all smile.

  Jess felt like she’d traveled around the world in the same clothes for three days. And she knew that feeling from experience. Her eyes were sore from grit and she wanted to curl up and sleep for five hours. The chair had been comfortable at first, but restraining. Her hips hurt from laying in the same position all night.

  Determined, she put one foot in front of the other and got everything done. She drove them all home, got Sophie and Hope tucked into bed for a late morning nap, then hopped into the scalding shower to try to feel human again. Once she redressed in shorts and a tank, she went to Paul’s room.

  He was sitting at the edge of his own mattress now, and he looked to be in pain, if the grimace on his face was anything to go by. “Did they give you pain pills?”

  “Of course. And anti-inflammatories. And a sedative. Not that I’m going to take them.”

  She shook her head at his stubbornness. “What are you going to do, then?”

  He barked out a laugh. “I’m not sure exactly. I guess just sit here and wait for the pain to ease.”

  “You know if you took the meds you wouldn’t have as much pain,” she told him sarcastically. “Funny how that works.”

  He sighed as he looked her in the eye. “Yes, but they make me feel… vulnerable. And I can’t do that right now.”

  “I’m the only one here to see you that way,” Jess told him softly. “And I promise I will only check on you the suggested two hour checks.”

  Paul grimaced and she knew it wasn’t much of an argument.

  “Okay, how about this then? You need to be in shape to take care of your daughter. That guy won’t dare come back here today. Take some pain pills and get some good rest early. Hope and Sophie are sleeping and I’m going to take a nap myself soon.”

  She could tell he was wavering, listening to her words. She let the silence stretch, hoping his need to care for his daughter would kick in.

  “Fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll take the pills. But you are not to interfere if I… react to them.”

  She knew what he meant, but she wanted to clarify. “Do you think they’ll affect your dreams? Or provoke flashbacks?”

  “I don’t know,” he said cautiously. “It has in some patients in our facility.”

  Jess cocked a hip before him. “I will check on you every two hours, and I will note if you’re reacting to the medication. I’ve done clinicals with vets before, so I know what to look for.”

  He glanced up at her in surprise, brows furrowed. “You have? Where?”

  Jess grinned. “Johns Hopkins in Maryland. I wasn’t lying when I said I had a psychology degree floating around.”

  “I think I need to just quit being surprised by you,” Paul murmured, and Jess laughed.

  When she shook out the pills, though, and put them in his real, bandaged hand, he grimaced. But
he managed to pop them into his mouth and hold the bottle of water to swallow them down. Then he held out that hand to keep her from leaving.

  “If I’m struggling, don’t touch me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Jess smiled at him. “I won’t let you hurt me. I promise. But you need to get some sleep. We all do. And you need to heal. Do you want me to take your prosthetic off?”

  He seemed to debate for a long moment. “I’ll keep it on for now.”

  “And your sweats?”

  Before they’d left for the hospital, he’d pulled on some sweatpants over his boxers. Sighing, he stood and very slowly peeled his sweatpants down. Jess moved around him to pull the sheet and blanket back so that he could climb in. It also gave her something to look at other than his strong legs covered in dark hair.

  “I don’t like being babied,” he mumbled.

  Jess snorted. “Then you haven’t been babied correctly. I’ll take care of you and I won’t demasculinize you in the process. Okay?”

  Paul grimaced, but nodded, and moved to lay back on the bed. He hissed out a breath when he finally settled, and she draped the blankets over his legs and lower body.

  “Jess,” he said softly.

  She looked at Paul, and was caught by the appreciation in his blue eyes. “I know this isn’t what you signed up for, and I swear to you I will find a replacement as soon as I can.”

  That statement hurt for some reason, and she glanced away. “I know you will, Paul.”

  Resting her hand on his hair for just a moment, she gave him a slight smile before turning away from the bed. Crossing to the window, she dropped the blinds, then draped a light blanket over the window, completely blacking it out.

  “Thank you, Jess. I didn’t realize how much that was hurting my head.”

  She smiled as she walked out the door, closing it softly behind her. Walking a few feet down the hallway, she checked on Hope. She could hear light breathing from the bed, and knew Hope was out as well. The man in black hadn’t broken Hope’s bedroom window. It had apparently been unlocked, and he’d just pushed it open. She’d locked the window, then propped a wooden dowel in the window as tight as she could to prevent Hope from opening it. Then she blacked out the room, but left a tiny nightlight burning near the attached bathroom doorway. Jess retreated, closing the door behind her.

  Then she just stood in the hallway, breathing, waiting, for some hint that something was off or someone needed attention. They’d set the alarm as soon as they’d walked in the door. The house was silent, though, and she finally allowed herself to go to her own room. She climbed onto her mattress, laying on top of the covers, and pulled out her cellphone. Setting an alarm for two hours, she allowed her eyes to drift closed, but she didn’t fall off immediately. There was too much swimming through her brain.

  She’d had this feeling before. Every time her mother had delivered a new baby, it had been Jess’s responsibility to take care of the other children, and they’d taken a lot of attention. Her mother was a serious worker, and Jess had always appreciated her abilities more after every child she’d borne. She couldn’t imagine everything her mother had done to care for them every day.

  This situation felt a little similar, but different as well. This time there was a… connectedness to what was going on. In spite of her determination to not get attached, she was getting attached. When his secretary mentioned hiring a woman to replace her, something inside her had rebelled, and she’d wanted to argue. She was becoming possessive of the Jamesons, which meant she needed to move on.

  11

  Paul woke uncomfortably, but feeling a little rested. He was uncomfortable because he was still wearing his prosthetic, which he never did in bed. Glancing at the window, he tried to gauge what time it was, but the blanket was still blocking out the light.

  Sitting up at the edge of the bed, he tried not to groan. His ribs were fucking killing him, and he needed to take a piss. Staggering to his feet, he crossed to the bathroom. He pushed his boxers down and sat on the toilet, wondering if he could climb in the shower. Jess would have to help him remove his prosthetic. Then she’d have to garbage bag his splinted arm.

  No. Fuck that. The woman had been hired to take care of his daughter, not him.

  Determined, he used his teeth to rip the velcro open on the splint, then did the same with the bandages. His knuckles were raw, and it hurt to make a fist, but it was less painful than he expected. The splint had been causing some of the pain. If he was careful, he thought he could get in the shower and do what he needed to do.

  Moving very carefully, he unfastened the prosthetic and left it on the vanity.

  The water felt incredible, or his skin was extra-sensitive. Whatever it was, it felt good, and it improved his mood immediately. Things needed to be taken care of, and he wasn’t getting any of it done lying in bed and being sore.

  Once he showered, he stepped out onto the towel. It hurt like hell to bend over, so he lifted the towel with his toes to his hand and sat on it on the lid of the toilet. He dried what he could reach without bending over, then sat there and air dried for a few minutes.

  He supposed it was good that he was hungry. There was a sense of unreality, because he had no idea what time it was since Jess had covered the window. Was it breakfast time or dinner time? He did not know. And he did not know where his phone was.

  Mounting the prosthetic on his right shoulder took double the time it normally did because his good hand was so sore, and it was hard to manipulate the straps and buckles. The scalding water had limbered up the muscles in his hand and arm, though, and he managed. It also took him longer than normal to get dressed in sleep pants and a t-shirt, but whatever. It was done. He was clothed.

  When he walked out of his bedroom, it was to the sound of silence, and for a moment he worried. He could now see that there was sunlight streaming through the windows, and the clock on the oven read three forty-five. Had he really been asleep that long? It had felt like mere moments, and he didn’t remember Jess coming in to check on him at all. He knew she had to have.

  Paul peered through the drawn blinds on the French doors. There they were. Carefully, he let himself onto the back patio.

  “Daddy!” Hope cried, running up to him.

  “Remember what we talked about, Hope,” Jess called.

  Hope skidded to a stop in front of him and looked him up and down. “Ms. Jess said I had to be careful of your broken bones. Are you broken, Daddy?”

  Paul snorted. “Well, in a way, but I can take a hug.”

  Hope pressed herself very carefully against his side, with an arm around his waist. She gave him the gentlest of squeezes, then stepped back, looking up at him with tears in her big, blue eyes. Oh, it about killed him. “What’s wrong, baby?”

  “I’m sorry you got broken for me,” she said, a single tear rolling down her cheek. Then a stream of them. This had to have been terrifying for her.

  “Oh, baby, it wasn’t your fault. I’m okay, really,” Paul assured her. He went down onto his knees in front of her, though it about killed his ribs. “Look, he hurt my hand a little, that’s all.”

  It was a total lie, but he held his hand out for her to look at. Tentatively, she reached out her little fingers, barely brushing against his purple and abraded skin. Then she focused on his head. “And there, too,” she said.

  “Yes,” he agreed. Since he’d taken the bandage off before his shower, she could see the stitches, so there was no sense in lying about it. “But I promise you I’ll be okay in a day or two.”

  Maybe he would call Dr. Waters and see if she could fit them in for an emergency counseling session. “How’s Sophie? Have you been pampering her?”

  Hope nodded, smiling like the sun had just come out. “She’s doing better already. We put her in the grass and she walked around and did her business. She’s using her leg, already!”

  “That’s fantastic news,” he said, standing, trying to breathe shallow so that his ribs wouldn’t sc
ream at him. He crossed to the patio table and settled into a cushioned chair, his gaze connecting with Jess.

  The woman looked beautiful today, though a bit subdued. And tired. She looked like the first day she’d arrived, her clothes a little haphazard and lines around her eyes. As Paul thought about everything she’d done for them for the past two days, his appreciation swelled. None of this was her issue, but she’d taken them on like a champ.

  “How are you feeling,” she asked, her gaze so much sharper than Hope’s. His daughter was tucking Sophie into the padded basket on the far chair, and he gave Jess a wry smile. “I’ve definitely been better,” he admitted.

  Jess held out her hand across the table and he knew she wanted to see his damaged knuckles, so he held his own hand out. It was truly a rainbow of colors. Every purple from lilac to eggplant, and a few greens and yellows in between. Then, of course, the red scrapes on the knuckles. It looked especially incongruous against her narrow-fingered hand.

  Jess sighed, her eyes incredibly sad. “Probably not a good idea for a one-armed man to get into a fistfight.”

  “Agreed,” he grumbled. “Makes life even more difficult for said one-armed man.”

  Paul didn’t mind the brush of her fingers over his skin. Actually, he enjoyed her touch. More than he should.

  “And your ribs?”

  “Burn like fire.”

  She made a cute little grimace and nodded. “I figured. Ribs are no fun. I broke a couple a few years ago. It took them a while to heal.”

  He didn’t like the thought of her hurt. “How did you break them?”

  Jess got a strange look in her eye, and her mouth quirked. “I was jumping off a bridge…”

  Paul stared at her for a long minute. “Seriously?”

  She nodded, grinning. “We were at this local spot outside Madeira, Spain, and a group of us were playing around. Well, I’d jumped in a couple of times already. It was only about a thirty-foot drop. But that last time I got knocked in by one of the other jumpers and I landed wrong. Two broken ribs, punctured lung, then an infection from the river water. I was in the hospital for about two weeks there.”